


undress to the bone

by biblicalmate



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Jealousy, Oral Sex, Possessive Tommy Shelby, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18363092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biblicalmate/pseuds/biblicalmate
Summary: Maybe trying to tease Tommy into bed wasn’t exactly your brightest idea, but you can’t argue with the results when he drags you home to show you just who you belong to.





	undress to the bone

**Author's Note:**

> in the process of cross-posting my fics from tumblr here, though a little edited, so if you've read them before that might be why!

To say Tommy is possessive of you is something of an understatement.

You two didn’t have an easy start to your relationship; you spent months dancing around each other, snarking and arguing and hurting but  _wanting_  all the while. The two of you getting together had been a relief to all your friends and family; Arthur had confided to you afterwards that Polly was on the verge of locking the two of you in a room until you’d either killed each other or kissed each other, she was so fed up of your shit.

Now that you’re together, Tommy’s determined to make sure everyone knows it. He’s not one for big displays of affection in public, but he makes sure that if you’re entering a place together he has a hand around your waist or on the small of your back. If it’s a good day, he’ll press kisses to your forehead or the back of your hand. It all builds up to a subtle claim but a claim all the same; for all that there’s no ring on your finger, you’re Tommy Shelby’s girl and that makes you off-limits to the rest of the world.

The problem starts when the rest of the world doesn’t know it.

A group of men from Nottingham are passing through Small Heath on the way to Bristol. They stop at the Garrison, newly reopened and buzzing with activity, and it’s so full of new people that night that nobody really notices. Tommy’s buzzing with the victory of a successful opening night, and you’re buzzing with the burn of rum in your veins. Your cheeks are flushed with the drink, smile wide and welcoming, and so when you find yourself waiting at the bar one of the men passing through starts chatting to you.

You’ll insist later it was all completely innocent; just two people who’ve had a little too much to drink bonding in that easy way drunk people do. Tommy, however, just sees you laughing and joking, body language open and leaning towards a man he doesn’t know. He steps into your space with no warning, chest pressed to your back, and you’re drunk enough not to question it when he ducks his head to press a kiss behind your ear. He wraps a possessive arm around your waist and your hand drops to rest over his, humming happily as his scent envelops you.

The guy you’ve been talking with slips away, face dark and grumbling beneath his breath, but you pay him no mind as you turn in Tommy’s hold to smile guilelessly up at him. He’s not looking at you, though, eyes sharp as he watches the other man disappear into the crowd. It’s only when he finally looses sight of him that he blinks slowly down at you, releasing you from his hold.

“You alright, Tommy?” you ask, confused by his sudden switch from affection to irritation; you can read his annoyance in the way the skin around his eyes tightens and his lips press together. You like to think you’re something of an expert in reading Tommy Shelby’s body language these days.

“Who was that bloke, eh?” he asks in return, brows knitting together as he frowns.

“I dunno.” You offer him a disinterested shrug. “Him and his mates are here overnight. I never did get his name; we were just talkin’ ‘bout Nottingham. It’s where they’re from, see.”

Tommy makes a vaguely annoyed sound, shaking his head. “He liked you.”

You blink once at him. “What you on about now?” you huff, raising an eyebrow.

His frown deepens. “He was flirting with you.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head as you shoot him an incredulous smile. “Was just a bit of friendly chatter, yeah? ‘Sides, even if he  _was_  flirting with me, I was hardly flirting back, was I?” You loop your hands around his neck, thumbs brushing at the shorter hair at the back. “You know you’re the only man I’m interested in flirting with, Thomas Shelby.”

Tommy looks mollified by this, irritation melting into a soft, barely-there smile as he cups your cheek. You return the smile ten-fold, grinning wide and shameless as his thumb strokes along your cheekbone. He leans forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips, and just like that the random guy from Nottingham is forgotten as you revel in his unprecedented public affection, ignoring the cheers from the Blinders who are watching.

The problem, however, continues when Tommy gets busy without explanation right afterwards.

You spend more mornings waking up alone to a cold bed than you’re used to — Tommy’s been making the effort to be there first thing, especially if he’s not there when you fall asleep — and when he does fall into bed beside you he’s too tired to do anything more than hold you. You’re not  _really_ complaining. Being wrapped up in Tommy is something you adore; he makes you feel safe, and it makes you feel happy to know that holding you can be a bright spot of a truly awful day.

You’ve just been spoiled, really; your boyfriend woke an appetite in you the first time he fucked you, and he’s the only person who can satisfy that kind of hunger. When two weeks drift by with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead in passing, you’re truly starting to get frustrated.

You know it’s silly. You know you’re being greedy and a little unfair to him, but Tommy makes you feel insatiable. You  _want_  him, all the fucking time, and the sudden drop from sex  _at least_ once a day to nothing for days on end has you practically salivating for a drop of attention from him.

So, that Saturday, when you have a little to much to drink visiting a friend, you get the bright idea that the easiest way to get Tommy’s attention is to show him you can get it elsewhere. Your friend, just as tipsy as you, thinks it’s a great idea and decides to tag along. And that’s how you find yourself wearing one of your more risque dresses — specifically, the one that Tommy’s told you more than once makes him want to bend you over and take you wherever you happen to be — sauntering into the Garrison with your friend at your side, both of you giggling like schoolgirls.

You spot Tommy straight away, sat holding court with his brothers and a handful of the Blinders, and your mouth goes dry at the sight of him. God _damn_ , but your boyfriend is fucking incredible to look at when he knows he’s the most powerful man in the room; he’s all dangerous eyes and sharp smiles, every movement deliberately made with a predator’s grace. You’ve never been more attracted to someone in your entire life.

He doesn’t seem to notice your entry, though, and the perceived slight hurts your pride as your friend tugs you to the bar and orders a round of drinks. The two of you settle on a table that’s in Tommy’s line of sight, leaning towards each other as you gossip and laugh and you try to act like you’re not waiting for Tommy to look your way.

It doesn’t take long before a man comes over to the table, eyeing you in a way that leaves no doubts about what he’s thinking. Normally, this would be where you turn him away or wait for him to realise just who’s girl he’s talking to, but not today. Today, you return his smile with an ingratiating one of your own, and in short order he’s joined you and your friend, sitting a little closer to you than is really proper.

You notice Tommy watching from the corner of your eye; you don’t know when he realised you were there, but from the way his tongue is darting out to wet his lips you’re positive he’s noticed just what dress it is you’re wearing. It makes you smirk, smug at finally garnering his attention as you refocus on the man in front of you.

Feeling the weight of Tommy’s gaze, you make sure to smile coyly and flutter your lashes and laugh a little louder than is really necessary as you chat with the stranger beside you. It’s when your hand brushes against his arm for just a second that you hear a chair scrape across the floor. Your friend shoots you a panicked look across the table, and you jerk your arm back as your shoulders tense.

Tommy calls your name, and the way he says it, voice dark and smooth like chocolate, sends shivers down your spine. You glance up at him, doing your best to seem both uninterested and innocent. His eyes are dark and angry, and as the buzz of the alcohol slips away you start wondering if this was really the best course of action.

“Tommy,” you greet, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Everything alright?”

He presses his lips together, flicking a disdainful glance to the bloke sat beside you. The man, only now seeming to realise what situation he’s gotten to, pales rapidly and starts sputtering apologies that Tommy ignores, because all his attention is on you again. You really can’t remember why you thought this was a good idea. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

You swallow nervously even as you frown, distantly acknowledging the fact that this definitely isn’t going to end well but too far into it to back out now. “I don’t want to leave,” you say stubbornly.

Tommy’s eyes darken further, stormy with anger as he leans down until his nose is almost brushing against yours. “I’m not gonna say it again, love. Up. Now.”

Your body responds to the order before your mind can really process it, and as soon as you’re on your feet he’s curling his fingers around your elbow, not so tight as to hurt but tight enough that you’d struggle to break free. He tugs you from the Garrison wordlessly, barely giving you the time to turn and flash a goodbye wave a little helplessly to your friend who appears torn between sympathy and amusement; you’ve told her enough about your relationship with Tommy to know that you’re probably about to get what you wanted, if not necessarily in the  _way_ you had wanted.

The walk back to Watery Lane is quiet; you’re too busy cursing your bright ideas to try with talking, and you suspect Tommy is using the journey to calm himself down. Though he can be volatile at times, he’s always very careful about how he handles his temper around you. He’s far from letting you get away with shit, but you know Tommy doesn’t like getting properly angry around you. You find yourself incredibly thankful for that as he ushers you wordlessly into the house and up the stairs.

“You wanna tell me what that was all about, eh?” he asks as soon as the bedroom door swings shut behind him, voice carefully calm and even.

“You weren’t paying any attention to me.” You know you sound petulant and childish, but it’s truthfully the only excuse you have; after the fuss about that idiot at the Garrison flirting with you the other week, he’d showed no interest in you tonight until you’d practically shoved your own flirting under his nose. It bothers you more than you like to admit. “I know it’s stupid, alright? But I was drinking with my mate and we were talking and I just, I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week, and when I  _did_ see you it was like you didn’t even notice me. I shouldn’t have done it, I know, but I just—.” You sigh. “I missed you.”

“Hey,” he huffs out your name, amused and irritated all at once as he drags a hand over his face. “You could have just  _asked_ to spend time with me if you wanted, alright?” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you to him so you’re chest to chest, and you huff even as you revel in his closeness. That’s the thing about Tommy, really; he infuriates you even as he draws you closer and closer. “I’ve told you before to just talk to me, yeah? What you  _don’t_  do is start flirting with some bloody prick in front of me and the boys, right? We’re not playing those games, not you and me.”  

You grumble wordlessly, feeling like a kid getting caught eating sweets before dinner. You know he wants an apology for your behaviour, expression expectant as he looks down at you, but your pride isn’t quite ready to allow it and so you continue your unintelligible muttering.

“That doesn’t sound like an apology now, does it?” Tommy murmurs, voice a low rumble that you feel more than hear.

Still feeling a little bratty, you frown at him instead. “Bite me, Tommy.”

As soon as the words fall from your mouth you regret them, colour draining from your face as your eyes widen. Tommy stares at you, eyes suddenly dark and flinty, and before you can process what’s happening he has you up against the wall. The hard lines of his body press against yours, strong fingers looping around your wrists as he pins them above your head, and your breath rushes from you in a gasp as arousal sparks low in your stomach.

“If you’re not careful, love,” he begins, leaning in and brushing feather-light kisses along the soft skin of your neck. You shudder, head lolling to the side to allow him better access, and you feel him smirk into the crook of your neck. “I just might.”

You whine low in your throat, straining against his hold, but Tommy just chuckles softly, teeth dragging along your neck and up to the curve of your jaw. You squirm, desperately searching for friction, but he just presses his body weight more insistently against you to still the movement.

“Ah, ah,” he chides, breathing the words into the sensitive skin beneath your jaw. “You think I’m just gonna give you what you want when you’ve been trying to get me jealous all night, love? Gotta be a good girl and make it up to me first, yeah? Only good girls get rewards.”

He pulls back enough to give you room as he releases his bruising grip on your wrists and you waste no time in dropping to your knees in front of him. You reach eagerly for his trousers, brushing your fingertips over the hard line of his cock through the fabric and smirking as he hisses out a breath in response. It’s short lived, though; Tommy fists a hand in your hair and pulls your head back roughly, glaring sternly down at you.

“I’ve had enough of your fucking teasing today,” he snaps, using his free hand to unbutton his trousers and pull out his cock. You feel a flush of heat at the sight of it, thick and hard and yours for the taking. Your mouth drops open without instruction, eager to taste him, and Tommy huffs out an appeased breath. “There’s my good girl,” he praises, pulling your head towards him.

As soon as you’re close enough your tongue darts out, swiping along the tip as you moan at his taste, but Tommy’s patience has clearly run out as he pushes the head past your lips. You drop your jaw wider, careful of your teeth, allowing him complete control as he rocks gently into your mouth. You hum happily at the weight of him on your tongue, hands coming to grip his thighs as you pull him closer. Tommy curses as the movement causes him to slide to the back of your throat and you swallow around him, glancing up at him through damp lashes.

“Fuck, you look so good like this,” he rumbles. “Got such a pretty mouth, eh? Looks fucking incredible wrapped ‘round my cock.” You moan as his words settle deep in your core, and Tommy smirks, smug and assured beyond all belief as he starts fucking your mouth in earnest. You gag softly around him but he offers you no relief, forcing you to take more and more of his cock as your eyes water and his shameless use of your mouth for his pleasure just turns you on. “You love this don’t you, my filthy girl?” You moan again as affirmation, thighs rubbing together beneath your skirt as you search for any kind of friction where you most need it, and he swears at the sight. “Such a good girl for me.”

You can tell he’s close, the roll of his hips becoming sloppier as he starts panting, but before he comes his hand yanks your head back. You gasp, sucking in air with heaving breaths, but before you really have a chance to orientate yourself he’s pulling you to your feet and kissing you greedily while stripping you of your clothes. When they’re only a puddle of fabric at your feet, Tommy trails hot kisses down your neck, down your chest until he’s on his knees in front of you. The sight takes your breath away; there’s something both incredibly arousing and humbling about having a man as powerful as Tommy at your feet, waiting to please you.

He nudges your legs apart, biting at the soft skin on the inside of your thigh hard enough to leave a mark. Tommy’s always careful about this; he thrills at seeing his mark on you, but he hates having other people see and make assumptions about you and your relationship. You don’t mind; you wear the marks he leaves on your neck in moments of forgetfulness with pride, smug at being Tommy Shelby’s girl, but there’s something sinful about feeling the bruises he leaves you throb when your thighs brush.

“C’mere, wanna taste you,” he says into your skin, and you spread your legs wide. He dives in immediately, tongue dragging a deliberate line along your slit, and he groans when he finds you wet. “Fuck, you’re soaked and I haven’t even touched you yet. Sucking my cock get you all wound up, love?”

“Yes,” you whine, hips bucking as he swipes teasingly light circles around your clit. “Tommy, please, need more, please.”

His chuckle is muffled as he finally starts giving you the attention you need, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. You sigh out his name as your hands fly to his hair, nails scraping against the shorter sides and Tommy groans into you, sucking firmly on your clit as he teases your entrance with his fingers. Your hips roll against his mouth as he slides a finger in; you’re so wet he’s met with no resistance, and so a second soon follows.

Tommy pulls his mouth from your folds, chin shining with your juices, and stares up at you with eyes so dark they’re almost black. You grind desperately against his fingers but he keeps them agonisingly still inside of you and you almost sob with frustration and the ever increasing desire for  _more_.

“Wanna watch you fuck yourself on my fingers,” he says, voice husky and low in a way that makes your insides throb with desire. You’re helpless to do anything but obey when he sounds like that, and you start riding his fingers unsteadily, skin flush with heat.  “C’mon, love, that’s it, you’re doing so good for me, such a good girl.”

His praise drives you to pick up speed, hands dropping from his hair to brace on his shoulders as you start moving with more force. The entire time praises and filth spill from his mouth, and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you come on the spot, whimpers and moans tearing from your throat as your pleasure builds and builds.

Right as you’re on the peak, chanting his name like a prayer, his free hand grips your hip in a bruising hold that brings you to an abrupt stop, your orgasm slipping away as you whine helplessly. Tommy chuckles again, lips twisted into a cocky smirk as he slips his fingers from you teasingly slowly, tutting at your flushed and sweaty state.

“Didn’t think it was gonna be that easy after all your teasing did you, eh?” he mocks, getting to his feet and sliding his fingers between your lips. You hum at the taste of yourself, tongue swirling around the digits as he watches you with hungry eyes. “You only get to come when I say you can come, love, and you’re only gonna be coming on my cock tonight.” You groan at his words and his smug little smile widens as he pulls his fingers from your mouth. “On the bed. Now.”

You go without complaint, only hissing out a surprised breath as he smacks your arse on the way. You scramble onto the bed and up until you’re at the headboard, twisting so you’re on your back. Tommy watches you intently, hand on his cock, and you spread your legs wide in an effort to entice him. In seconds he’s on you, mouth devouring yours, and you groan throatily into the kiss. He tastes like whiskey and smoke and your slick, and you want  _more more more_.

The fabric of his suit drags against your skin, sending delicious prickles of heat to your core, and for all that you love seeing Tommy bare and in all his glory, there’s something delightfully filthy about him fucking you while he’s fully clothed. Tommy seems to agree, breaking the kiss to watch your face as he hitches your leg around his waist and his cock slides hotly against your cunt. You moan wordlessly, nails digging into his shoulders through his jacket, feeling overwhelmed by need for him but unable to express it as he continues to deliberately slide against you.

“Something you want, love?” he teases, breath washing hotly over your mouth as you tilt your hips in a desperate effort to feel him inside. The head of his cock catches on your clit and you shudder, throwing your head back. “If you want something, you gotta ask for it. Want to hear you fucking beg for it, alright?”

“Tommy, please,” the plead falls from your lips immediately. “Want you, need you,  _please_.”

“What do you want, hmm?” He refuses to relent, cock gliding along your slit, and you know you’re so wet that you must be soaking him by now.

“Your cock, need your cock, fuckin’ need you inside me Tommy, need you to fuck me, need to feel you—.”

Your words are cut off with a gasp as Tommy finally slides inside you, back arching at the way he stretches and fills you. He withdraws almost entirely with deliberate slowness, and in the quiet of your room you can hear how wet you are, the sound so loud and filthy that you’d be embarrassed if you were with anyone but Tommy. He curses at the sound, voice wrecked, and he leans down to give you a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth as he starts fucking you.

He sets a relentless pace, thrusting inside of you with so much force the bed moves with it, and any hope of you forming words flies out the window. All you can do is cling to him, walls clenching around his cock greedily every time he pulls back as you hook your other leg around his waist.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasps, one hand supporting the small of your back as he braces himself above you with the other. “S’like you were made for me, like your sweet cunt was made for my cock.” You moan, enraptured at the thought, and his laugh is breathless at the sound. “Thought you’d like that idea, love. Cos you’re mine, aren’t you? You’re fucking  _mine_. Nobody else can make you feel as good as I can, no fucker else can make you come as hard I can. You’re my. Fucking. Girl.”

He rears up, the change of angle letting him hit that sweet spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyes, and your panting is interrupted by garbled pleas as your orgasm starts to build again. You’re praying he’s not going to stop this time; from the way his breath is catching as your walls flutter around his cock you think he’s probably close himself, and you find your voice finally cooperating with you again.

“I’m so close, Tommy, please, need to come, wanna come on your cock, wanna feel you come inside me, c’mon, want it so bad, fuck,” you manage to gasp out around moans, tongue tripping over itself as you struggle to get your words out, but it does the trick.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he hisses out, hand sliding down the curve of your arse before coming around to your cunt. “You’re bloody filthy, girl, so fucking perfect.” His thumb starts rubbing rapidly tightening circles around your clit and you loose control of your body, hips bucking to meet the combination of his thrusts and his hands, and you’re so close you can taste it. “That’s it, that’s it. Come for me, love. Come for me  _now_.”

The command is all it takes, body trembling with the force of your orgasm as waves of pleasure roll through you. Tommy continues his murmuring, praising you as you clench tight around him, and after a few unsteady thrusts he follows you over the edge, spilling hot inside you as more of his weight collapses on top of you.

It takes a long few moments before you come back down, drowsiness already starting to seep into your bones, and you push weakly at Tommy’s shoulder as his weight becomes uncomfortable. He huffs into your neck, pressing a quick kiss there, before pushing himself up and sliding out of you. You whimper, feeling achingly empty without him inside of you, and Tommy hushes you with a wordless murmur, dropping another kiss to the top of your head.

He shifts around, stripping himself of his ruffled clothing. He offers you his shirt silently, and you take it with a tired smile, sliding it over your head immediately. It smells like Tommy and home and sex, and the scent comforts you as you burrow into the bed. He joins you, tugging you into his arms so you’re lying half on top of him with your head on his bare chest. You can hear his heartbeat, gradually slowing from the thundering race your fucking had brought it to, and you let the sound lull you into a half-asleep state.

“Alright?” Tommy mutters quietly, lighting himself a cigarette. He always checks in with you after times like this, when you’ve relinquished control to him or he’s worried he may have been a little rough, and it makes warmth bloom in your chest.

“Yeah,” you hum, turning to press a sloppy kiss on the tattoo over his heart. “’M sorry about earlier.”

“I’m sorry too. I know I’ve been neglecting you a bit recently; it couldn’t have been avoided, but I could have explained what was goin’ on, at least.” His hand smooths along your hair, the motion soothing.

“S’okay. I was being a brat,” you admit sheepishly.

“Lucky for you, I love you even when you are being a fucking brat, eh?” His voice is soft, teasing, in the way he only ever is in the quiet of his room late at night, and it makes you want to melt into him.

“I love you too, Tommy.”

His continues to run his fingers through your hair, and the combination the movement, being so close to him and the vigour of your  _activities_  has sleep swallowing you up between one breath and the next.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @ biblicalmate :)


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